Harry Potter: A Life after Voldemort
by The Red Rose Girl
Summary: When Harry was all done and dusted saving the wizarding world from Lord V, he was finally free to live his own life, make his own choices and decide what was really important - Family. This is the retelling (as accurately as possible) of what Harry's life was like after the battle was won, starting with the one thing he could never really have - Ginny.
1. Trafalgar Square

**May 12th, 2001**

* * *

><p>Harry Potter awoke with a sick feeling in his stomach.<br>The blinding sunlight streaming in through his open window did not help- his entire world was now a bright, dizzying haze. Harry fumbled around on his bedside table for his glasses, and when the world was no longer a blur, he raised himself up on bony elbows and sat still in bed, listening to the quiet and reliving fragments of his dream.

He was sixteen years old.  
>Back at Hogwarts, and strolling through the grounds in the blinking sunlight.<br>Someone beside him, a smooth hand in his calloused palm, interlocked fingers.  
>The Black Lake, ripples in the cool, dark water.<br>Not caring about grass-stained uniforms.  
>Sunshine filtering through the leaves above them...<br>Flaming red hair, a feisty sense of humour and a breath of laughter.

He'd relived this particular memory countless times on the run three years ago. It had kept him going when all had seemed lost, in the depths of despair, when he had been lying alone in his bunk at night with the marauder's map, staring longingly at Ginny's dot in the girl's dormitory at Hogwarts as he thought achingly of his then ex-girlfriend.

The sick feeling had not quite abated yet. Harry's startlingly green eyes flickered to the tiny, blue velvet box lying somewhat carelessly on the bedside table, next to where his glasses had been.

* * *

><p>He had found it in Sirius- no, <em>his<em> attic, among sheaves of old parchment and photographs, many of which were now in frames adorning the walls of 12 Grimmauld Place. It had been sitting inside an old envelope addressed to Sirius, (who had evidently never bothered to open it) accompanied with two letters; one in hasty, scratchy handwriting and covered in ink splatters, and another on yellowed parchment in thin, slanting writing.

The first letter had read-

**_August 1995_**

**_Sirius,_**

**_This letter and what accompanies it were given to me firsthand by Dumbledore the night after you returned to Hogwarts and Wormtail escaped. It's for you, and contains something very important for Harry, he told me. I would have given it to you in person, however circumstances have been rather unfortunate for me since our reunion at Hogwarts this year._**

**_Please ensure that Harry gets both the letter and the gift when the time is right._**

**_Remus_**

The second letter had been of a slightly different nature.

**_June 1995_**

**_Sirius,_**

**_Words cannot express how it gladdens my heart to be safe in the knowledge that you remain alive, your soul intact, and innocent. This night has certainly been one to remember, particularly for your godson- I know that James and Lily would be very proud of you for offering to look after him, and it is a great pity that Harry cannot live with you after all, due to Lily's protective charm. Thank you beyond measure for finally providing him with a family member whom he can at last love and rely on in the future._**

**_On the night of James and Lily's deaths, as you know, I returned to Godric's Hollow to the remains of their house as you know, and searched the premises for any possible artefacts that may have been useful to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I recovered many things, including both of their wands, James' invisibility cloak, and the object that accompanies this letter._**

**_As his godfather, please ensure that Harry acquires it. I know that it would mean a great deal to him (not to mention James and Lily) to know that he can still have part of their love living on to share._**

**_Yours faithfully,_**

**_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_**

Blinking back the wetness in his eyes, he tipped the yellowing envelope downward and the mystery object toppled out.

The ring had been goblin-cast, so it had never tarnished. The gold gleamed brightly in the lamplight, the diamond small, delicate, and startlingly bright. It was as though it had been cast yesterday. Inside the delicate band were his parents names. _Lily Evans & James Potter_.

* * *

><p>Sitting in bed, Harry smiled to himself at the thought of the ring on Ginny's slender finger. He was meeting her later on that day, in Trafalgar Square. His smile grew a little wider – Ginny had been playing for the Holyhead Harpies the for the Quidditch season, and had returned the day before yesterday.<p>

His thoughts were interrupted by a polite knock on Sirius' bedroom door. Harry snapped out of his reverie, running his fingers through his hair and sitting up in bed.

The old house elf poked his fluffy-eared head around the doorframe, a heavily laden breakfast tray precariously balanced on one arm, with a feather duster tucked into his apron. Kreacher began to waddle over to Harry's bedside table, but Harry quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed the tray with a hasty grin. "Morning, Kreacher."

"Good morning, Master-" the elf hobbled over to the curtains and attempted to drag the heavy fabric aside, determined to be of service. "-did master have a-" the elf grunted in effort "-pleasant sleep?"

Harry carefully balanced the breakfast tray on his somewhat crowded bedside table, and grabbed a piece of toast. "Yeah, not too bad..had a dream. A very good dream..." his feeling of nervousness washed over him again, landing in a knot in the pit of his stomach. He gulped.

Kreacher hesitated momentarily from his new chore; picking up bundles of crumpled clothes strewn across Harry's floor. "Master?"

Harry eyed the little blue box somewhat uneasily in response. Kreacher's eyes managed to twinkle a little, a wry smile on his creased features. "Today is the day, then, eh, Master?"  
>Harry's knot did not loosen. "Er, yeah, hopefully..."<p>

Kreacher rolled his bulbous eyes backward in his domed head and resumed collecting Harry's clothes from the past fortnight.  
>Harry smiled through a mouthful of toast. The elf was like the grumpy old grandfather he'd never had.<br>The grin dropped at the nagging prospect of meeting Ginny. He picked up a glass of pumpkin juice to distract himself.

"Kreacher, have you got the time? I have to meet Ginny in Trafalgar Square at midday." he said thickly through his mouthful of breakfast.  
>Kreacher's somewhat cheerful expression vanished. "Master, it's eleven-forty-three."<p>

Harry nearly choked on his juice as his father and his friends gasped from their photo frame on the wall behind him. "_What?_ Merlin-"

He leapt out of bed, dragged on a pair of yesterday's jeans and hopped, one-legged across the room to the mirror, Kreacher trying to assist him all the way.

"Master's jacket is hanging behind the door, nicely ironed–"

"Master's toothbrush is on the tray–"

and, "The ring, Master, the ring!"

Harry tugged an old jumper over his scruffy hair, grabbed his jacket, munched another quick mouthful of toast, and seized the little blue box. He tried in vain to flatten his untidy hair before whipping around to face Kreacher's judgement.

"Well?" he asked desperately.

Harry was nearly twenty-one years old. He'd reached a final height of exactly six feet tall, and had inherited his father's angular jawline and lanky limbs. Not to mention his mop of unruly dark hair, his shockingly green eyes behind perfectly round glasses and lightning bolt scar. It appeared that Harry had, totally by accident, grown into a rather handsome young man. In fact, if he had stood in front of you, Harry would have seemed almost identical to his father, James, in the photo glued onto the wall behind him.

Kreacher looked Harry up and down abrasively, a large nostril twitching in disapproval at the juice stain on his jumper and his thrice-worn jeans. The elf grunted once, which Harry took to deem his appearance somewhat suitable.

Kreacher thrust Harry his wand and wallet. "Quickly, master, it's eleven-fifty-five!" he said exasperatedly, pushing Harry's lanky out of the bedroom and down the rickety staircase.

"'Agh – _Kreacher!_" Harry yelped as the house elf shoved him out of the house into the warm summer air. Harry took a deep breath, quickly dusted himself off and glanced around for Muggles before turning on the spot and entering the suffocating darkness of Apparition.

He reappeared in the middle of a crowded Trafalgar Square, breathless. Harry glanced around - luckily, he had apparated totally unnoticed. He strode briskly over to one of the great black lions, and, ignoring the French tourists clambering over the beasts, leaned against one of their paws to wait for his girlfriend.

Time ticked slowly on, and Harry grew edgier by the minute. It was seven minutes past twelve- where was she? He shifted from foot to foot in anticipation as Fabian Prewett's watch ticked on to eight past. _Come on, come on, come on_-

Suddenly, there she was. A glimpse of immediately recognisable flaming red hair. Grinning widely, Harry leapt up from his sitting position, his bright green irises scanning the crowds, following her bobbing head, the size of a sickle, then a Galleon, then she was only metres away. Harry felt a grin spreading across his face like marmite, and made a mental note in the back of his mind – _damn._

She looked incredible. On her stockinged feet were a pair of battered old leather boots (which Harry knew for a fact had once been Mrs Weasley's), a flower-patterned ruffled skirt with a cream-coloured top and an old denim jacket over it. She had a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop her bright red hair, and a hard, blazing look – she looked gorgeous.

She stopped, grinned, and began running towards Harry as soon as her eyes caught his. He too, began walking at first, then striding to meet her, also grinning. Only fifty feet away now-

The two of them collided in a tangle of arms and legs and laughter. His hands grasped at the back of her neck, her slender fingers entangled in his dark hair, her lips locked fiercely onto his in a triumphant grin. Then he was hugging her tight, his nose buried in her fiery hair, inhaling her scent; cinnamon, roses and old leather. She was back, and he had missed her.

Ginny broke free of the hug so that the two of them were nose to nose, kissing him quickly in between words.

"Oh my God-"  
>Kiss,<br>"I have missed you-"  
>Kiss,<br>"so-"  
>Kiss,<br>"much-"  
><em>Long <em>kiss.

Harry laughed into her mouth. "Nice to see you too," he chuckled, kissing her again a little clumsily. His arms snaked down to the small of her back, he leaned his scarred forehead against her own, allowing snatches of memories to come flooding back. A whole Quidditch season was a long time.

The pair of them both stood quietly in this way in the crowded square for a few moments before Ginny began fumbling in her bag.  
>"What?-" Harry began, but Ginny silenced him with a look.<br>"I want to remember this," she said firmly, producing a wizarding camera – Harry didn't even know she owned one of those. Ginny held up the camera in front of them.  
>"Say 'Puking Pastilles'!" she said cheerfully, and Harry raised an eyebrow for the photo before planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.<p>

The camera gave two, quick little puffs of white smoke, and with that, she stowed it back in her bag and the pair set off their fingers interlocking, for Diagon Alley to meet Ron and Hermione.

Harry felt a little stab of guilt as the he and Ginny apparated in an alleyway to the Leaky Cauldron- he had hardly seen either of them, he'd been purposely keeping himself busy with Auror training, but he'd not seen Ron for a month, let alone Hermione, who was hard at work campaigning for SPEW. He decided to distract himself with Ginny as they stood outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"So, how're the Harpies? Hear you're top of the League." he commented, draping an arm around her shoulder, using the other to knock on the door.

Ginny rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh, Godric, please, no more talk of Quidditch," she groaned as Tom the landlord let them in. "I've had seven solid months of non-stop matches, training and press releases...let's just say I'm glad to be finally taking a break." She said exasperatedly, both of them casually ignoring the copious stares they were earning from the customers of the Leaky Cauldron as they strode through the pub.

"Please," Harry scoffed. "you loved every minute of it."  
>She allowed herself a smile. "Yeah, I did."<p>

The pair of them chuckled as they left the inn. Harry was happy for Ginny's success in Quidditch, but he felt a little twinge of awkwardness – she had a point. She'd been working hard these past three months – She wouldn't want to get engaged _now_, he thought glumly as he tapped the brick in the wall and the bricks began rearranging themselves.

"I'd forgotten about the staring." Ginny said quietly, breaking Harry out of his reverie. He glanced sideways at her expression, worried, but she sighed as she took his hand and leaned into his shoulder, and he relaxed.

"Wish I could." said Harry with a wry smile as he turned to face her. He was touched at Ginny's definite acceptance of the fact that by being with him, her life would be very different.

She leaned in for a kiss; a soft, quiet kiss that somehow briefly explained all of the things he knew he would never be able to put into words. Smiling as they broke apart and the last brick fell into place, they both strode out into the sunshine. Nothing would ruin Harry's spirits now that Ginny was back.


	2. The Dream

**August 18****th**** 2001**

* * *

><p>"Gah!"<p>

Harry Potter was awake. His gasp must have been heard by Ginny as she stirred a little in her sleep next to him.

The morning was drizzly, and rain spattered down from the dreary skies above. Harry was quite happy to have the excuse to slip back underneath the covers with Ginny on a dreary Sunday morning. Harry sighed, relaxing back into the pillows next to her, shuddering at his nightmare.

* * *

><p>She was running away from him into a murky darkness, and he couldn't run fast enough to catch her.<p>

_Leave me alone! _She had screamed, terrified as he chased her.

_You left me.  
>You gave up on me.<br>__You killed my brother!  
>Murderer...<em>

sobbing, crying.  
>Each word a splinter of ice in his chest.<br>_I won't give up, I promise...I'll never leave you again, not as long as I live...  
><em>Breathing hard, muscles burning.

_You betrayed me,  
>You broke me.<br>Who could ever love you, after all you've done?!__  
><em>

And Harry had finally stopped chasing her as she vanished into the impenetrable darkness that lay ahead.

* * *

><p>Harry shook off his nightmare. <em>It was a nightmare<em>, he thought firmly, _it wasn't real. She loves you. _As if to reinforce reality, Harry glanced to his left at the small of her exposed back gently rising and falling. As if she had noticed, she shifted a little, turning slightly so that she was facing him.

But he couldn't control the small twinge of doubt as he his gaze flickered to her sleeping face. The small strands of hair splayed across her cheek; the way her face muscles relaxed, making her look so much younger. She seemed to feel his stare in her sleep, her eyes flitting sleepily open.

"Mmm," she murmured, stirring slowly into wakefulness. She smiled sleepily as her eyes found his, and she wrapped her arms around his bare midriff. "Morning."

"Morning," murmured Harry, kissing her head. "How'd you sleep?" he asked, wrapping her in his arms.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow slyly. "Well, we didn't get much sleeping done, did we?"  
>Harry laughed nerously- she did have a good point...he must have gotten three, perhaps four hours of sleep for the whole of last night.<p>

"Thank Godric for that," he muttered. "Still, at least now we get to stay in bed all day to make up for it," he grinned, kissing her forehead.

Ginny smiled distractedly- she had noticed the purple shadows beneath his eyes, and she wasn't fooled. Her hand cupped his cheek in concern.

"You had a nightmare again?" she asked, her brow furrowing.  
>Harry shook his head. "It's nothing, Gin. Just a dream." He said lightly, kissing her palm.<p>

Ginny was having none of it. "Come on, Harry, spill the beans." She commanded, suddenly awake. She sat up in bed, blowing flyaway strands of hair away from her face and clutching the duvet around her for modesty, a very Mrs Weasley-ish expression on her face beneath her mussed up hair. This and the fact that Harry had been having sex with her approximately five hours ago were not in any way helpful.

Shaking off the thought with a shudder, he too sat up. "It's nothing, honestly. Come here-"

"Harry, I'm not an idiot."

"Look, just drop it, will you?" He muttered, a twinge of irritation breaking though.

Her eyes narrowed . "No, I will not drop it! Why won't you tell me?"

"Gin, it's nothing, seriously!" said Harry frustratedly.

"No, Harry-"

"It was just a bad dream, it's not going to kill me!"

"Can you be sure about that?" she countered. "In fifth year you started sulking and ignoring everyone and shutting yourself up in this room because of dreams-"

"Gin, Voldemort was using me, I think my actions then were pretty much justified!" said Harry, indignantly.

"That's not the point, Harry! If you can't even trust me enough to tell me about a frigging dream, how the _hell _do you expect us to-"

Their bickering soon escalated into an argument, complete with hand gestures.

"You _always_ do this, every time something happens, you never tell anyone anything that happens to you, no matter how serious it is, because you dont want us to _worry _or you _need to handle it on your own_-!"

"No, for God's sake-! You don't _get _what it's been like, I was doing that to protect you-"

"By ditching me at The Burrow for eight months?! Poor little Ginny, the youngest girl, always needs to be locked up safe-"

"It wasn't like that, and you know it, he would have found you and _killed you, Gin_, like he did my parents!"_  
><em>

"You think I can't take care of myself?!"

"_He was the most powerful dark wizard of all time!_ Why have you always got to get so _annoying_-!"

"_Annoying? _You didn't think I was annoying last night, when you were screaming my name to the rafters!"

"_Do you ever shut up?!_"

"_No!_ No, I don't, and if that's such a big problem for you than maybe we shouldn't _be together-_"

Her hand clapped over her mouth.  
>The pair of them fell silent. Hot, angry tears burning in her eyes, Ginny dropped her hand silently, her cheeks flushed. The unfinished sentence hung in the air like spider's silk waiting to be cut. The silence seemed to last a lifetime before he cleared his throat and broke the gaze.<p>

Time restarted. A siren wailed outside the window.  
>They sat still in the sheets for a few more agonizing moments.<p>

She fidgeted with the sheet she clutched around her, afraid, vulnerable, naked.  
>She inhaled shakily. "Harry...do you...do you think...what I said-"<p>

Each breath like a weight on his lungs. He had to do this right.  
>"No. Well, to be honest...I sort of can't imagine life without you, Gin." he said, his eyes flicking upward to hers.<p>

Harry turned his back on her and reached into the drawer where the tiny velvet box had been sat patiently collecting dust for the past three months.

He took it and placed it on the sheets between them, popping it open.

"...so...would you...perhaps...marry me?"

She simply sat open-mouthed for a few seconds, speechless, transfixed by the tiny blue box and what lay inside it. Her gaze flickered momentarily to his face. Seeing no trace of a joke there, she smiled.

"Alright, then."


	3. Midsummer's Eve

**June 21****st**** 2002**

* * *

><p>The morning of Midsummer's Eve 2002 was an extraordinary one for Harry Potter.<br>For one thing, he was not sleeping in his own bed- it was a camp bed in a bedroom at The Burrow which he was currently sharing with his best friend, Ron Weasley. For another thing, Harry Potter didn't awake from his dreamless sleep with a jolt or a start- he slowly opened his bright green eyes at the warm sunlight filtering through Ron's curtains. Then he grinned. Because Midsummer's Eve 2002 was especially important for Harry- it was his Wedding Day.

Harry fumbled around for his glasses on the night-stand next to him. The world swam into focus as the alarm clock next to his head mumbled, "It's seven-twenty-three..."

Harry sat up in bed, just staring into space. He was getting married. He was getting married! He was getting _married_. Harry let his grin get wider and wider for about half an hour before waking up Ron, who was snoring soundly from beneath his Chudley Cannons duvet.

"Ron! Ron, wake up!"

Harry whacked Ron once lightly on the side of the head. Ron's pale blue eyes flew open with a croaky, "Grargh!" at Harry's grinning face.

"Harry! Bloody Hell...why in the name of Merlin are you awake, it's-"

Ron peered blearily around Harry at the clock, which muttered, "seven-fifty-seven..."

"Seven-fifty-seven!" repeated Ron crossly. Harry just kept on grinning as comprehension dawned on Ron's sleepy features. "Merlin's beard, it's-"

"It's my wedding day, I'm getting married!" said Harry happily, hitting Ron on the head once more. "You'd think you'd remember, I am marrying your sister."

Ron smiled, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, even I'm pretty surprised I forgot- she hardly shut up about it, 'I'm marrying the famous Harry Potter'-Ow!"

This earned Ron another whack on the head from Harry.

Harry knew that in Ron's mind, Ginny was still the starstruck twelve year old girl who hid under the breakfast table when Harry had first entered the room.

"Point is," continued Harry, "I'm getting married - We need to get downstairs and start sorting out the marquee, sharpish. Come on."

* * *

><p>Harry pulled on a dressing-gown, dragged Ron out of bed and the two young men began the perilous jog down to the ground floor for breakfast. By the time they had reached the third floor landing, they had both exchanged dark looks - the sound of lots of girlish laughter and giggling was emanating ominously from inside Ginny's bedroom.<p>

Harry thought he would stop over and say good morning. "You go on, get some food," he told Ron, who had been eyeing the door apprehensively, and seemed glad of the excuse to leave.

Harry heard Fleur saying very loudly, "'Old still, Ginny, I cannot work wiz your 'air... Victoire! _Viens-ici, maintenant!_" as he strode over to the door. It looked rather cross, and barked, "Ey! No trespassers."

The laughter inside immediately ceased, replaced with lots of "Sssh!"ing.

"Who is it?" he heard Ginny call from inside.

"It's me, Gin," he called from outside. "Just checking to see you're OK."

Harry heard someone say, "Awww...", but he was listening intently for Ginny's reply. It came very loudly.

"Piss off!" He heard her shout cheerfully. "You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, you idiot." This statement was followed by lots of girlish laughter. Godric knew what rituals the morning of a wedding inceded.

Harry mentally kicked himself. _Shit._ He'd forgotten about that particular aspect of weddings.

...Right," he said a little sheepishly to the door. "...sorry...Love you, Gin."

"Love you too!" came the reply.

Harry smiled and began his way down the stairs, where he finally heard Fleur say, "You vulgar eenglish girls...I do not know 'ow your men stand eet...".

* * *

><p>Harry jogged downstairs to the kitchen, from which the familiar aroma of one of Mrs Weasley's famous fry-ups had been wafting through the house. He beamed as he was greeted by a rousing cheer of many people surrounding the table.<p>

"The man himself!" grinned Ron, clapping him on the back through a chorus of "For he's a jolly good Wizard...", as Harry sat down to an enormous plateful of sausages, pancakes, black pudding, eggs, bacon and many slices of toast. Harry smiled at all the grinning faces surrounding him. George, Gabrielle Delacour, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley and Andromeda Tonks, who was smiling and bouncing Harry's godson Teddy on her hip.

"Thanks, guys," said Harry gratefully, smiling widely at all of them. "It's going to be a great day."

"I should bloody well think so!" said Ron, munching toast. "It's you and Ginny, innit?"

This prompted a laugh around the table. Harry grinned as he bit into a bacon sandwich.

* * *

><p>Harry had not been wrong - it was going to be a great day. Before long, both Harry and Ron were washed, in suits, and down at the marquee.<p>

Everything had been set up beautifully- it was not dissimilar to the decoration of Bill and Fleur's wedding four years ago...so much had changed since then. However, this time, Harry was the groom, and he had great cause to be nervous. He went in search of advice from Bill, who was bewitching some chairs to sit in rows.

"Look, Harry, mate," Bill said calmly, "I know how you feel, but don't be nervous."

"Don't be nervous," repeated Harry dumbly. "right."

"Seriously," Bill smiled, bewitching another row of chairs. "When you see her walking down the aisle towards you..." Bill paused for a few seconds, smiling as he remembered his own wedding, "Everything will fall into place. OK?"

Harry smiled nervously. "OK."

* * *

><p>Somewhat reassured by Bill, it seemed to be no time at all that Harry was standing at the entrance to the Burrow, greeting guests and showing people to their seats. It seemed that everyone Harry had ever known and heard of had turned out for the occasion- Kingsley and Mundungus Fletcher; his old Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and his old friend Hagrid; even Gwenog Jones, from the Holyhead Harpies arrived.<p>

Many of Harry's old school friends had also been invited, including Dean and Seamus, Lavender Brown, (Ron made a point of greeting Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet when this happened) Oliver Wood, Parvarti and Padma, Ernie Macmillan, Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott...Harry and Ron were glad to see their mates back together once more.

However, all too soon, it seemed, everyone (including Ron's Auntie Muriel) had been seated, and it was time for Harry and Ron to take their places as groom and best man. Harry's legs seemed to have turned to jelly as he and Ron stood facing the front, anxiously awaiting Ginny's arrival. At last, the tufty-haired wizard who had held Fleur and Bill's wedding reached the podium, and asked the congregation to "Stand for the entrance of the bride.".

The String Quartet began playing, and the audience swivelled around in their seats. Harry heard the awestruck sighs, but he did not dare turn just yet. Finally, he could bear it no longer, and he too turned around.

First came little Teddy Lupin and Victoire, toddling down the aisle, hand in hand in a little suit and a white dress. After that, dressed in pale gold gowns were Luna Lovegood, with little radishes dangling from her ears, and Hermione, with her long brown hair swept into a sleek updo; both of them clutching bouquets of white roses and smiling.

And then...Ginny.

Harry felt as though he had been whacked around the head by a bludger. He could not speak, could not move, hardly think; all his bewildered mind could focus on was the beautiful girl walking up the aisle toward him.

She was breathtaking. Her long red hair had been swept off of her face and entwined with white roses, the little flyaway strands escaping in the summer breeze. She wore a strapless dress of pure white, which flared out subtly at the waist, allowing the material to flow gracefully with every step she took. She held a bouquet of white roses in her left hand, the other wrapped around the guiding arm of her father, who was swelling with pride. She wore a hard, blazing look on her face, and it was this, more than anything that told Harry that it was his girl, his Ginny walking up the aisle towards him.

Harry grinned a grin a mile wide- he was the luckiest man alive to be spending the rest of his life with Ginny. It was exactly as Bill had told him- everything fell into place. Mr Weasley took Ginny's hand, placed it in Harry's, and it was as simple as that.

"Hey." whispered Ginny, her bright brown eyes sparkling with emotion.  
>"Hey." Harry whispered back and grasped her interlocked fingers. This was it.<p>

Harry barely kept up with a word the presiding wizard was saying. He occasionally caught the words, "love...rest of life...together..." however he found it difficult not to simply stare, awestruck, at Ginny's radiant beauty; it was as though she had suddenly turned into a Veela of some sort. Finally, the wizard spoke the words which Harry had been longing to hear.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your lawful wedded wife?"

Harry swallowed before speaking. "I do." He said firmly, slipping his mother's wedding ring onto Ginny's trembling finger.

Satisfied, the wizard turned to Ginny. "And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, take Harry James Potter to be your lawful wedded husband?" Harry turned to Ginny, who was staring at him with her blazing look. Her voice trembled as she spoke those final words.

"I do." smiled Ginny, taking his hand and slipping James Potter's ring on Harry's finger.

"Then I declare you bonded for life." Said the wizard, finally.

Harry stared into Ginny's eyes, allowed his hands to cup her face before bringing it up to meet his. Ginny shut her eyes, and their lips touched.

The whole world seemed to vanish in an instant. The walls surrounding Harry and Ginny fell tumbling down; nothing on earth would separate them again. Ginny snaked her slender arms around Harry's neck and her tongue darted playfully into his mouth, to raucous laughter, wolf-whistling, cheering and applause. They broke apart, breathing hard. Ginny shut her eyes, leaned into Harry's forehead, and smiled as she caught her breath. Harry squeezed her hand as the chairs cleared away and the band began playing. Harry bowed, remembering the dance lesson he'd been taught in his fourth year, and kissed Ginny's hand to much laughter.  
>"May I have this dance?" he proffered, as Ginny laughed.<p>

"Why yes, you may," she grinned, her eyes sparkling as they took the floor.

* * *

><p>Harry would have loved to dance with his beautiful bride all night long, however it was not to last. There were guests to greet, people to see, and after a while Ron stepped in, demanding a dance with his baby sister as Harry took Hermione's hand.<p>

"Oh, Harry, Congratulations!" said Hermione happily, flaunting her ability to multitask as she kept perfect time with the music.

"Thanks, Hermione," grinned Harry, twirling her once. "So, has everything gone OK? No last minute traumas regarding placement cards and such?" he joked.

Hermione laughed. "No, nothing like that. It's perfect- everything has gone off without a hitch."

"Great," said Harry, smiling as he spied Andromeda Tonks in the corner, chuckling with Mrs Weasley at a nearby table with a glass of pumpkin juice. He thanked Hermione as Ron took her hand before walking over to greet her.

She smiled as she saw him walking over. "Andromeda!" Harry greeted her.

"Aw, hello, Harry, dear," she smiled warmly, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Congratulations, that was a beautiful ceremony."

"Thank you," said Harry, "I enjoyed it too." He smiled. "And thanks for sorting Teddy out as well- it's great to have him here..." Harry searched around for the toddler. "...where is he? I haven't seen him in weeks, what with all the wedding preparations..."

Andromeda also looked around, looking a little worried- then her kind face relaxed into a fond smile as she pointed the boy out to Harry. "He's over there with Victoire by the band." Harry followed her finger and smiled as he found his godson playing at the foot of the stage with little Victoire. He strode over, catching snippets of their conversation.

"Now, watch, Vicky," Teddy was saying, as Victoire sat rapt in attention. Harry watched the boy shut his eyes tightly, press his lips together, and his dark curls turned silvery blonde as Victoire watched in amazement.

Teddy opened his eyes again, and asked her excitedly, "Well? What colour is it?"  
>"Yewwow!" she giggled, "Yewwow like me! Now go bwoo!"<p>

Teddy obediently shut his eyes, furrowed his brow, and his hair slowly turned a vibrant turquoise as Victoire clapped her hands in delight.

Harry jogged over, smiling, and tapped Teddy's shoulder. The boy turned around and smiled- a smile that lit up his whole face. "Harry!" he said happily, standing up and hugging Harry's knees.

"Hey Teddy-boy!" Harry grinned at him, picking him up and twirling him around as Teddy laughed. Harry at last put Teddy on his hip, bouncing a little. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah, this is awesome!" laughed Teddy, grabbing at one of the stringed balloons suspended from the roof of the marquee.

"Good, I'm glad you're having fun." said Harry, not noticing Ginny running over to say hello.

"Hi there, Teddy!" said Ginny, smiling.

"Hello Ginny," said Teddy obediently. "You look very pretty." he added as an afterthought.

Ginny's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Thank you! Now, Victoire's looking all left out-" Ginny took her niece's tiny hand, and lifted her up onto her on her hip as well, kissing her sticky cheek as Harry hoisted Teddy up onto his shoulders above him.

"There we are!" said Ginny, satisfied. "Now, let's dance!" she led them all (somewhat haphazardly) onto the dancefloor as the wizarding band The Weird Sisters began playing, and both bride and groom danced with the children, trying not to fall over from laughter and overbalancing. They danced for about fifteen minutes, until Teddy spied more food coming in from on high, and demanded that he and Victoire be put down so they could eat their fill. Harry obliged, and soon Teddy had grabbed Victoire's grubby hand before toddling away.

Ginny watched after them fondly as Harry's arm snaked around her waist, and the two of them began dancing.

"Well, all in all, I'd say this is all going rather well, don't you?" he murmured into her hair as she leaned into him.

Ginny chuckled quietly. "Yes, very well. It's been amazing..." she smiled, her soft brown eyes meeting his bright green ones. "Thank you. You know, for asking me in the first place..." She said, her voice trembling slightly.

Harry gave a low chuckle. "Thank _you_."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

Harry leaned in closer, his lips inches away from hers. "For making my life complete."

And a shower of tiny star-shaped confetti fell from the roof of the marquee over their entwined figures, and there was not a single guest who wasn't cheering, wolf whistling (Seamus and Ron), or crying (Hermione and Mrs Weasley).

With the exception, of course, of Teddy Lupin and Victoire, who were busy making mud pies in the setting sun, for which both Fleur and Andromeda would not thank them.


	4. Pesto Pasta

**July 14****th**** 2003**

* * *

><p>It was a pleasantly warm summer afternoon in London, and the most of the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place were sitting out in their back gardens enjoying the summer sunshine. A few of them had even put on a barbecue.<p>

However, Ginny Potter wasn't doing either of these things. Instead, she was sitting at her solid oak table in the dark, dim, basement kitchen, in a position almost identical to the one in which she had been sitting when she had first sat down nearly an hour ago.

Ginny was now the Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet, having retired from playing for the Harpies after four years, and she loved her work. She always had something to say, a point to make, whether it was pointing out that Luna Lovegood had been an amazing commentator in her days- well, day, really – as a Quidditch commentator, or being ferociously outspoken against the QWC Association's proposals on where to host the Quidditch World Cup 2004; (Lapland? Seriously?) Ginny's column was never a dull one.

Ordinarily she would have drawn up a plan for the column by now and have moved onto the first draft- however as she glanced at her watch, the time read four-forty-three. She had been sitting at the kitchen table biting her lip for nearly an hour.

Ginny gnawed the end of her quill as the undiluted sunlight streamed in through the small rectangular window above her at street level, still silently contemplating the small but undeniably daunting fact that she had only just discovered, it seemed, only moments ago, despite having gone over it in her mind at least four times.

Ginny was late. Late, as in _late_, late. Over a week late, and she'd never been late a day in her life.

She just couldn't take it in. How many times had she dreamed as a teenager, of kissing Harry, being with Harry, starting a family with Harry? How many times had she cried herself to sleep at night in 1998, when she had lain in bed wondering if he would make it out of the war alive...and if he'd still love her by the end? And now, Harry _did _love her, as she loved him...so why on earth was she obsessing over this?

Ginny sighed, throwing down her quill in frustration and running her delicate hands through her long red hair, not noticing how the strands that fell loose glimmered fiery gold in the summer sunshine.

_Get a grip on yourself, girl. _She told herself, sternly. _This isn't the war; it's a baby. Harry will be fine with it._

She wasn't convinced.

Ginny decided that it was no use trying to write at this rate, and shoved the many reams of parchment cluttering the dining table to one side. She got up, magicked a packet of pasta out of a cupboard and into a pan. She couldn't be bothered to fetch the water herself, so she did a simple _Aguamenti_ charm instead, pointing her wand at the pan as if it were a faucet. Soon enough the pasta was boiling merrily away. Satisfied, she set about finding a pot of pesto sauce for the pasta in the fridge. She set it on the counter to add when the pasta was cooked.

Even this simple task could not take her mind off of it. She walked to the fridge, searching manually.

Eggs...no...Marmite...no, that was Harry's...Milk...no!  
>"Argh!" Ginny slammed the fridge shut in frustration, raking a tired hand through her scarlet hair. She paced for a while, before coming to a halt at the same counter where the pasta was. She leaned her elbows on it, massaging her temples. It was as though everything she looked at was screaming at her, <em>pregnant pregnant pregnant pregnant-<em>

"Ginny? Ginny, I'm home..."

Ginny's agitated eyes flew open at the bubbling pasta in front of her as she heard Harry's voice and the door clicking shut. Her senses returned to her, and she cursed silently, removing the pasta from the heat before it could burn.

"Ginny?" she heard Harry call up the stairs.

"In here, sweetheart," she called back, stirring the pasta and magicking two china plates onto the countertop beside her. She heard his familiar footsteps echoing along the corridor, his keys hitting the table in the hallway and his briefcase being stowed under it. Ginny took a deep breath – it was time to face the music.

Plastering a smile on her face, she turned to find Harry entering the kitchen. "Hey there," she said, her voice bright.

Harry crossed over to her, pulling her into a hug before kissing her. "Hey." He grinned before peering over her shoulder at the pasta. "Mmm, what's cooking?"

"Pasta and pesto- bit basic, I'm afraid," sighed Ginny, glancing at the pitiful pasta behind her.

Harry shrugged, grabbing a plate and a fork. "I'm not fussed- if your cooking's half as good as your mum's..."

"-which it isn't-" Ginny added as she also grabbed a plate. Harry chose to ignore this.

"...then I'm a happy man." He concluded, tucking in as he stood up, leaning against the countertop opposite her. "This is great, by the way," he said between mouthfuls.

"Thanks," Ginny's stomach lurched a little as she looked at her bowl of pasta. _Eurgh_. She quickly placed her plate back on the kitchen counter, shutting her eyes momentarily- her nausea had vanished as soon as it had appeared.

Harry noticed this and frowned slightly. "You're not hungry?" he asked, concerned. Ginny shook her head, flashing Harry a smile before folding her arms over her stomach. Harry shrugged and returned to his food.

"How was your day?" Ginny asked, attempting to shift the focus from herself.

"It was alright," said Harry noncommittally. "Ron says that he and Hermione say hello, and that we're all invited to The Burrow on Friday night for dinner. I think Hermione wants to discuss wedding stuff."

Ron had proposed to Hermione on Christmas day 2002, and they would be getting married in October.

"Oh, OK."

Harry looked up at Ginny, scrutinising her expression. "You OK, Gin? You're a bit quiet tonight. Bad review?" he asked, a trace of worry leaking into his voice before he took another mouthful of pasta.

Ginny took a deep breath, unfolding her arms and resting them on the countertop behind her. Time to break the news.

Harry lowered his pasta bowl. "Ginny?" he asked tentatively.

Ginny shut her eyes. "Harry, I'm pregnant."


	5. Informing the Family

**July 14****th**** 2003**

* * *

><p>Harry's bright green eyes widened. His mouth stretched into a wide grin as it fell open in amazement. He nearly dropped his bowl of pasta. Ginny was pregnant.<p>

He could hardly get the words out as Ginny nodded slowly.

"You're...you mean...We're...I'm gonna..."

Ginny grinned.

Harry gave a shout of laughter before picking up Ginny and twirling her around. He kissed her full on the mouth, twice, grinning as he did so- he could hardly believe it. He raked his hands through his untidy dark hair, his glasses nearly falling off his face. Merlin- _Ginny, was pregnant._ He hugged her in a tight embrace, closing his eyes. He was going to be a father, and he couldn't remember receiving better news in his life- even when Hagrid had turned up at his house thirteen years previously, and told him that he was a wizard.

_Did you hear that, Mum?_ he thought. _Did you hear that, Dad? Did you hear that, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Mad-Eye- Ginny's pregnant! I'm going to have a family..._

Ginny gave a watery chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She had no idea why she'd been so worried in the first place.  
>"So I take it, you're pleased then?" she joked. Harry smiled- it was an odd, strained smile- as though if he did not, then he would cry.<br>"...Yeah..." he said in a half-choked voice. "Yeah, pleased is one way of describing it..."

"Hmmm..." murmured Ginny, smiling as she kissed him – a long, hard, loving kiss. Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hair- he had been caught unprepared. Then, suddenly, it really seemed to hit him in one spiralling moment- they had to tell everyone!

He broke off the kiss reluctantly, staring into Ginny's eyes.

"Ginny...Ginny, we have to tell everyone! I'll send out a patronus-"

"No!" said Ginny sharply as Harry began removing his wand from his back pocket. He withdrew it, a questioning look on his face. Ginny drew him in a little closer, staring at his shoes.

"Look...can't we just...keep it to ourselves? Just until we next see them all?" she asked in a small voice, keeping her eyes on the boring flagstone floor.

Harry now felt like a small child waiting for Christmas Eve.

"...But...that's four whole days away!" he protested.

"I'm sure you'll last until then." Said Ginny dryly, grabbing his bowl from the counter opposite her, and refilling it with pasta. "Now come on," she said firmly, tapping his bum as she handed him the plate, making Harry jump.

"Get a grip. Promise me you'll keep it a secret until then." Her deep brown eyes bored into his green ones sternly.

Harry stayed silent.

Ginny raised a ginger eyebrow, looking, if it was possible, even more like her mother.

"_Harry._"

"Fine."

The following days passed in a blur, and for Ginny, Friday evening came along all too soon. She was dressed in a simple, cream-coloured button up top, over a pair of dark jeans, while Harry threw on a shirt over his work trousers.  
>"Ginny, you ready to go?" he called from downstairs, checking that the Floo Powder pot was full.<p>

"Yep, coming," he heard her reply, and soon enough she was jogging down the stairs to meet him. Both of them had agreed that Apparition wasn't really the most practical method of transport for pregnant witches, and so they stepped into the fireplace, holding hands. Harry dropped the sooty powder and shouted, "The Burrow!"

A few seconds later they both emerged from the Weasley's fireplace, coughing and spluttering into the arms of a smiling Molly Weasley.

"Hello you two!" she said warmly, enveloping Ginny in a warm hug. Ginny inhaled her soft, homely scent.

"Hi, Mum." Ginny hugged her back.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley." Said Harry politely, offering his hand, which Mrs Weasley ignored before enfolding Harry in a bone-crushing embrace. This was an accomplishment, as Harry was now a good ten inches taller than she was.

"Harry, you call me Molly now." She said sternly, into his shoulder. "You're practically part of the family."

"OK, Mrs Weasley." Harry gasped as she released him from the hug.

Molly rolled her eyes and shepherded them into the dining room, where they found Ron and Hermione, Bill, Percy, George, Mr Weasley; and to their pleasant surprise, Neville and Luna were beaming smiles of welcome at them too. Harry and Ginny took their seats in between Ron and Bill, and before long everyone at the dinner table was tucking in to Mrs Weasley's hearty shepherd's pie.

As the daylight faded, the wine started flowing, (although Ginny refused, and had a glass of iced pumpkin juice instead.) and Harry stood and raised his glass.

"Now, I'd like to make a toast," he said warmly, amid whistles and clapping, only continuing a hushed silence had fallen around the dinner table.

"Firstly, to all of you- may you lead long and happy lives," said Harry, smiling widely at all of them.

"'Ear, 'ear!" he heard George shout from the other end of the table, to much laughter.

"Secondly, to my beautiful wife, Ginny," Harry looked down next to him as Ginny's cheeks flushed in pleasure, and Hermione nudged her, smiling. "Not only because, well, she's made me happier than I thought anyone ever could," he said truthfully, catching her gaze and holding it for a few moments before turning back to the table.

"But also, for another reason," Harry smiled, taking her hand, leaving them all hanging.

"Why?"

"Come on, Harry, out with it!"

"Tell us, Harry!"

Harry looked eagerly at Ginny, who rolled her eyes and nodded the final assent.

Harry grinned, took a deep breath, and raised his glass.

"Ginny's pregnant everybody," he grinned, draining his goblet in one as a cheer erupted around the table. Ginny smiled, pulling Harry back down into his seat, a smile playing on her lips as she leaned in for a quick kiss.  
>"Nicely done," she murmured.<p>

Mr and Mrs Weasley looked delighted; Hermione and Luna looked excited; and Ron...

Ron drew himself up to his full height (well, as tall as possible when sitting down) and leaned toward Harry.

"Hey, Harry...I, erm...can I talk to you for a minute outside?"

Harry's smile drooped a little. "Er, yeah, sure..."

Ron lead Harry out of the dining room, through the kitchen and into the garden, all the while Harry was cursing under his breath. Why had he made such a spectacle? Ron wasn't going to thank him for that...

Ron rocked back on the balls of his feet, a little awkward.

"So...you and Ginny, eh?"

"Yup." Harry smacked his lips as he examined the garden around them, equally awkward.

Ron pursed his lips. "_Wow_."

"I know..."

Ron took a swig of his goblet before continuing, pointing a finger at him, trying his best not to appear accusatory.

"So, _you_ had sex with _my_ sister, then, yeah?"

Harry stared at Ron's knees. "Yeah...I know..." He met Ron's raised eyebrows. "Well, I am married to her, Ron!" he said indignantly.

"So?"

"So, what did you think marriage was, playing chess all night?-"

"Hey!" said Ron defensively, his ears turning pink as he prodded Harry in the chest lightly. "_You're_ the one who had unprotected sex with my sister."

"At least I married her first!" Harry said huffily. "Look, Ginny's not twelve years old anymore, and nor am I...we're both adults and we can make our own decisions...can't you just be happy for us, Ron?" Harry was now really quite irritated with his best friend.

"Well, erm, that's kind of why I dragged you out here in the first place..." said Ron quietly, staring at his wine goblet before meeting Harry's eyes. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh." He said, shortly.

"Listen, Harry- I'm happy for you." Ron said, smiling, albeit a little awkwardly. "I just wanted to say, well...congratulations, really..."

Harry also stared at Ron's wine goblet. This was probably the first time that Ron had pulled him away to speak about Ginny without there being some sort of negative connotation- and Harry had no idea how to react.

"Erm...well...yeah," Harry said finally, smiling. "Thanks, Ron."

Ron grinned back, clapping him on the shoulder as the two young men turned back toward the house.

"Great. Now that we've settled that out, I want some pudding, I don't know about you...Mum's making treacle tart-"

"Aw, yes!" Harry licked his lips in anticipation- Mrs Weasley's treacle tart was a sight to behold. "Come on, I'm starving now!"

And so the best friends made their way through the dark back into the house, their footsteps muffled on the soft, dewy grass, and the echoes of their comments fading into the velvet night.

"So...you still had sex with my sister..."

"Shut up, Ron."

And so it came to pass that at Ron and Hermione's October wedding, Ginny was sporting a pregnancy bump beneath her sapphire blue bridesmaid's gown as she walked down the aisle of Hermione's local church, strewing forget-me-not petals before Hermione and Mr Granger, and Harry grinned at her as Ron took Hermione's hand and he took Ginny's. Soon, he and Ginny would have what Harry had wanted from the moment he had looked in the Mirror of Erised at age eleven – a real family.


	6. Muggle Knitting

**Author's note: Thank you all so much for being so tolerant of me- here's Chapter 6 and thank you all for your positive reviews (especially the Curly Girl :3)**

**March 20****th**** 2004**

* * *

><p>It was a drizzly spring morning, and Ginny Potter was sitting slumped in one of the squashy scarlet armchairs that inhabited the now-handsome living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place while Harry worked in the kitchen. A pair of muggle knitting needles lay untouched in her lap as she stared at the crackling fire in front of her. Ginny gave a wry smile as she recalled the summer eight years previously, when Harry, Hermione and the rest of her family had waged war on the house, cleaning and polishing every surface. She looked around it now- the living room was now decorated in the handsomely familiar gold and red décor of the Gryffindor Common Room at Hogwarts. Ginny smiled again as she recollected memories of Hogwarts...the Great Hall where the feasts were held; the Black Lake, where she and Harry often used to spend summer afternoons almost two years after he had nearly died there; soaring around the Quidditch pitch to the fierce roaring of the crowd-<p>

Ginny's expression turned to stone. She was twenty-three years old, and eight and a half months pregnant. She was huge. She could barely stand on her feet for more than five minutes without falling over or needing the toilet. For the first time in her life, she felt a shred of sympathy for her Auntie Muriel as she thought grumpily of the blisters on her swollen feet.

Her family were loving it, of course. Bill, George, Ron and Charlie were having difficulty stifling their laughter whenever Ginny waddled into a room. Even little Teddy Lupin was growing a little apprehensive, as she remembered him eyeing her bloated stomach warily at the last family dinner he had attended, as though the baby could suddenly leap out of her. Ginny remembered how she had wished that it would.

Ginny hated being pregnant. She hated the morning sickness, the mood swings, the way that other people looked at her with that special concern on their faces, as though she was someone with a condition. Her nose wrinkled in disgust for a second, before she quickly banished the thought. She had been irritable enough already without the unfortunate addition of mood swings, going from out-of-control horny to clinically depressed at the flick of a wand.

Harry was being awfully sweet about it of course, reminding her that she was still beautiful, that she was still Ginny, soon back on the broomstick. And Ginny would smile, and kiss, and press down the frustration squirming in her chest, because the last thing Harry needed right now was for her to flip out.

Ginny looked down at her knitting needles that rested on her tummy, before throwing them aside contemptuously. Knitting was for one-hundred-and-thirteen year old bats like Muriel, or muggle grannies. Ginny was young! She was in the prime of her life, Ginny thought mockingly, before her thoughts quickly turned to a tiny stab of self-pity. She was Ginny Potter, she played Chaser for a Premier Quidditch Team! She thought angrily, frustration burning away any depressing thoughts. Why should she have to sit at home all day, staring at the same dull fireplace in the same dull house? Muggle knitting in armchairs? Was this what she had been reduced to?

Ginny struggled determinedly to her feet, her jaw set. She was going out.

She shuffled into the hallway, slipping on a pair of scuffed old pumps without socks. She grabbed her keys, handbag, coat, wand, phone – useless, she had no idea how the bloody thing worked – and umbrella, feeling better than she had in days. However, her face hardened as she heard Harry's footsteps jogging down the hallway ("Ginny?") to catch up with her before she could reach the door. He blocked her way, his expression suspicious as he took in her dangerous expression, outerwear and her swollen tummy. Ginny stared determinedly at her husband, silently daring him to contradict an angry pregnant woman. Harry swallowed before speaking.

"Ginny, what are you doing?" he asked warily.

"What the hell does it look like?" she replied impatiently, "I'm going out."

"Out where?"

"_I don't know_, just out." She said, trying to get past Harry, her expression fierce."

Harry tried to reason with her, "Ginny, come on, don't be-"

And that did it.

"_Don't you tell me what to do, Harry Potter!_" she shrieked furiously, her skin white with long-suppressed fury. Harry looked taken aback as she trembled.

"Do you," she hissed, "have _any_ idea what it's _like_, being pregnant?" she took a step forward, lessening the distance between herself, Harry, and the front door. "Do you have any idea what it's like having to use the loo twelve times in one hour? Do you know what it's like to be a small _continent_? _Do you?_" she said shrilly, prodding Harry in the chest as he glanced down, his eyes widening.

"Er, Ginny-" he began, but Ginny cut him off.

"Don't you 'Er, Ginny,' me!" she shouted, almost in hysterics, "I have been stuck in this big, fat body for almost a year, having someone kick me inside day and night, feeling like my vagina is going to tear in two for _eight and a half months,_" Harry winced at the sting behind her words, despite the fact that he was still trying to distract her attention.

"I am twenty-three years old, Harry!" Ginny carried on tearfully, stamping her foot as orange sparks erupted from the tip of her wand. "I should not be wandering around the size of a giant Quaffle, _knitting._" she choked the next word, contempt lacing her voice. "I should be...I don't know, on a Quidditch Pitch, or...travelling, to America, or Africa, or just getting drunk and doing stupid stuff that makes no sense!" Harry was still trying to grab her attention.

"Ginny," he pleaded, but she ignored him, her nose in the air.

"And that is what I shall do." she sniffed. "Now get out of my way!" Ginny tried futilely to get past an astounded Harry to the door.

"Ginny-"

"Shut up!"

"Ginny, look, you can't-"

"_Don't you tell me what I can and can't do!_" her voice reaching supersonic level as her eyes narrowed. "I can do whatever I want," she said childishly, "Now _move_, and _stop staring at my crotch!_" Ginny shrieked as Harry winced yet again.

Her soft brown eyes were filled with tears of frustration, and a passionate fire raged within their depths as she faced him, her breast heaving with unshed, racking sobs. Harry stared back at her for about a second before scratching the back of his head and gesturing there feebly with his hand.  
>"Your...your water sort of...broke," he said weakly, as Ginny glanced at the dark patch seeping through her leggings and dripping onto the floor. "...while you were, um...yelling...at me..." he tailed off a little awkwardly as Ginny shut her eyes in mortification and her cheeks flushed in chagrin. Her face screwed up at the wetness now flooding her knickers.<p>

"Damn it..." she muttered a string of curses under her breath as she dumped her bags unceremoniously in the hallway before shuffling to the stairs.

"I'll be up in the bedroom," she called back to a shell-shocked Harry who was still standing in the hallway. "Get Hermione, will you?" she added, as she took the stairs, her face screwed up in disgust. The fluid in her knickers was now sloshy and damp. She noted that Harry had still not moved. She turned around to face him, irritably. She clapped her hands together, twice; the resounding cracks fired like gunshots through the house, and Harry jumped, still holding her coat in his arms as he turned, appearing somewhat startled to see her at the top of the stairs.

"Come on, chop chop!" she said, "We haven't got all day, you know." She grumbled as she disappeared up the stairs, although it was with a satisfied grimace.

Harry shook his head, gathering his thoughts before striding over to the phone, collecting himself. He dialled Hermione's number, thanking his lucky stars that she had seen fit to invest in a phone.

She picked it up on the second ring. "Hello?"

Harry cleared his throat- his mouth had gone oddly dry. "Erm- Hermione?" his voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat again. "Hermione?" he repeated, this time in his natural voice.

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione sounded suspicious.

"Erm...Ginny's sort of gone into labour..."

Hermione gasped. "What? When?"

"About seven minutes ago."

"Gah!"

Hermione dropped the phone, and quickly picked up Ginny's emergency bag that she'd packed about a week ago.

"Oh my...Oh my goodness! I'll be right there!" she reassured the phone before slamming it on the receiver. She quickly sent out a patronus to her husband, Ron, and to The Burrow before giving her living room a once over. Satisfied, she apparated to Grimmauld Place.


	7. The Baby

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience and reviews. I'm sorry it's taken me so long- however I'm on break now so hopefully there'll be lots of lovely new chapters to read and write, starting with the birth of James Potter Jr.**

* * *

><p><strong>March 20<strong>**th**** 2004**

* * *

><p>It had been six and a half hours since Harry had put down the phone, and turned around to to find his best friend Hermione was standing behind him, looking very stressed and rather excited.<p>

"Gah! Hermione- hi- erm, Ginny's gone-" Harry managed to get out before Ginny gave a very strained bellow from upstairs.

"Up here, 'Mione!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows before thrusting a bag at Harry's chest. "Come on, let's go." She said grimly, taking off her coat.

* * *

><p>It had transpired, however, that as they had reached the bedroom, Ginny had seized Hermione's top and the bag, dragged her inside and slammed the door in Harry's face without another word. Blinking, Harry had run a hand through his hair, and jogged down the stairs, to find Arthur and Molly Weasley sitting in his living room. Mrs Weasley had run over to him, her eyes shining in happiness as she grasped him in one of her infamous hugs.<p>

"Oh, Harry, dear, congratulations! We came as soon as we heard-"

"Oh?" Harry tried to say, however all of the air in his lungs was being slowly squeezed out, like toothpaste.

"Yes, dear," said Mrs Weasley, releasing him and taking Harry by his shoulders that were now slumped in relief that he could breathe properly. "Hermione sent us a Patronus – so resourceful, that girl."

"She's upstairs with Ginny, now," Harry gestured behind him at the staircase.  
>"Righto." Said Mrs Weasley, clapping his shoulders once before leaving, her expression now businesslike as Arthur flashed Harry with a grin.<p>

"Sorry about Molly," he apologised, smiling. "She can get a little overexcited..."

"Oh, no, not at all." Harry waved off the apology. "Totally understandable...yeah..."

Mr Weasley grinned sympathetically. "Still not set in, yet, eh?"

Harry's expression did not change despite his conscious efforts to smile. "No, not really."

Mr Weasley opened his mouth to speak, however Ron came tumbling out of the fireplace, coughing and spluttering, and a little sooty.

He stumbled across the carpet on lanky legs, his wide blue eyes scanning the room for Harry's face.

"Ginny's – having – the baby?" he gasped, nearly bent double. Harry nodded mutely from his position in the doorframe. Ron grinned, and clapped Harry once on the shoulder. "Congratulations, mate," he said, before collapsing into the armchair that Ginny had occupied about ten minutes earlier as his father sat down on the sofa opposite him. They began conversation, however about a minute into it, Ron was cut off by a terrible scream.

Harry's head jerked as though it had been dangling from a rope. His eyes widened in fear and desperation as the scream permeated the room for a few seconds before ending in a harsh grunt. Harry glanced at Ron's shocked features, and Mr Weasley gave a wry chuckle.  
>"Believe, me, Harry, that's the first of many, if Ginny is anything like her mother." He said grimly, ignoring Ron's disgusted expression.<p>

* * *

><p>Harry tried to ignore his wife's tortured yells as he greeted many more members of the Weasley Clan, including Bill, Fleur and their little girl Victoire, trying instead to concentrate on mundane subject topics, such as chess and dragons (Charlie had turned up for the occasion). After about an hour, he could stand it no longer, and took the stairs two at a time up to his and Ginny's bedroom, which a chair had been placed outside.<p>

Harry collapsed into it, placing his elbows on his knees and screwing up his eyes in guilt as Ginny let out another pain-filled scream.

Now, four hours later, Harry was pacing up and down the corridor, his teeth on edge. He raked one hand through his untidy dark hair in desperation as Ginny went through hell behind the bedroom door. He winced, clutching at his hair tightly as Ginny let out a bloodcurdling shriek that seemed to last for hours before it finally tailed off into a strangled sob. Harry held his head in his hands, his eyes screwed up in desperation as he paced agitatedly to and fro, Hermione and Mrs Weasley's voices pleading through the door.

"Please, Ginny...it's just a simple spell, it-it takes the pain away," he heard Hermione's shaky voice.

"No!" he heard Ginny say through gritted teeth. "No, I told you – I – _have_ – to do this – no spells-"

"Ginny, you're not a Muggle!" He heard Mrs Weasley's anguished tones. "Merlin's sake, don't put yourself through this, sweetheart, please-"

Harry fell down into the chair, his hands trembling as Molly's shaky sentence was drowned out by yet another agonizing yell from Ginny. It seemed to be an eternity before it ended abruptly in a harsh, rattling breath.

A tear splashed onto Harry's jeans. He wiped away the wetness in his eyes impatiently, the rest of his body still as stone as he listened to Ginny gulping for breath through the wall.

His bright green eyes flew open at Ginny's hoarse whisper; "Get Harry..."

"Ginny, love, are you sure that's a good-" Mrs Weasley asked gently, but Ginny cut her off with a snarl.

"_Get_" Harry winced at the ferocity behind his wife's words, "Harry. _Now_."

Harry was on his feet in an instant. The door swung gently open and an exhausted looking Hermione poked her tired face around the door, indicating him in with her bushy head. He spared her a grateful glance before scanning the room.

Mrs Weasley was wringing a wet cloth above a bowl on Ginny's bedside table, which was directly next to the photo that she had insisted on taking of Harry and herself three years previously in Trafalgar square. In the photo, Ginny had buried her head in Harry's jacket.

Ginny herself was lying in bed, her expression fierce. She was propped up on an assortment of various cushions and pillows. Her long, red hair was slick and damp with sweat; several strands clung to her fevered forehead. Her cheeks were flushed in exertion, and her eyes sharp and alert with pain. Her soft, pink lips were mashed into a thin line, her knuckles white as she clung to the sheets. She was clearly in agony. Harry felt icy little stabs of guilt in his heart – _he_ had done this to Ginny. His remorse must have shown in his expression, because Ginny stretched her thin lips into a strained, yet loving smile as he knelt on the floor and took her trembling hand.

"Hey, Harry," she tried to sound lighthearted, however the outcome was rather forced. Harry tried to smile back at her.

"Hi, Gin," he said, a crooked smile on his face. He stayed silent for a few seconds as Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. Harry quickly cleared his throat, realising he had been staring.

"So, erm...how're you holding up?" he said feebly, attempting a grin, which came out as a grimace.

Ginny returned the grimace. "You know me," she said lightly, through clenched teeth. "Can't complain...turns out childbirth's not half as bad as cruc-"

Suddenly her eyes went wide, focusing on a point somewhere over Harry's right shoulder. She pressed her lips together before gripping Harry's hand, clenching her eyes shut and letting out another ear-splitting cry. She was holding his hand so tight that her nails drew blood. Harry looked around desperately at Hermione, who looked helpless as she handed him a damp cloth for Ginny's forehead. Ginny's scream finally tailed off into a whimper, and she flopped back on her array of cushions as Harry sponged her head, keeping up a relentless flow of encouragement and apology.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny, I'm so sorry," he murmured guiltily, dabbing at her head until he noticed her glaring at him fiercely, her eyes blazing.

"_Sorry?_" she hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Sorry? What the hell are _you_ sorry for? I'm the one having my vagina ripped apart!" she said angrily.

"Yes, and it's my fault!" said Harry, his expression abashed as he caught Mrs Weasley's eye. "I was the one who...y'know..."

Ginny's eyes squinted even further in annoyance.

"Now, you listen to me, Harry Potter," she said fiercely. "_I'm_ not sorry. Merlin, I don't care how painful this is, or how bad you feel, but I am not sorry!" she said hotly, clutching Harry's hand. "This is _our_ kid, our baby. I would _never_ be sorry for that, so don't you dare go feeling sorry for yourself, or me for that matter, just shut the fu-"

Her sentence ended suddenly as another terrible scream interrupted her rant.

"Ginny, please!" Harry cut her off, before she could protest, "Just let us help you, God's sake!" he said desperately as Ginny shook her head dazedly.

"No, Harry, I have to do this-" she began, but Harry interrupted her again.

"Ginny, I can't just sit here and _watch_ while you're-" he swallowed, "_hurting_ like this...you're hurting so much..." his voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, feeling self-conscious once again with Mrs Weasley's eyes on his back. He ignored her, concentrating on Ginny.

"Please?" he tried one last time. "For me?" he offered.

Ginny gave her husband a long, hard look. She studied the anxious lines on his scarred forehead, the concern in his brow. The fear, love and desperation in his wide, green eyes. The firm set of his mouth, which she had kissed so often. She studied his expression for a little longer before giving her mother and Hermione a curt nod, noting how their shoulders sagged in relief. Harry grinned at her, kissing her sweaty forehead. Ginny grinned back as he looked away pointedly from Hermione and Mrs Weasley pointing their wands between Ginny's legs. Ginny heard Mrs Weasley mutter an incantation not unlike that of a Flame-Freezing Charm.

Harry watched Ginny's face, partly out of concern, and partly out of curiosity.

His shoulders loosened as all the muscles in Ginny's face relaxed of their own accord, and her entire body slumped back into the pillows. A dreamy grin spread over Ginny's face as she sighed in relief and Harry too, exhaled. Ginny picked up his hand, kissing his interlocked fingers.

"Better?" Harry asked.

Ginny closed her eyes. "Much." She agreed, her voice steady.

Then, suddenly, she sat up in bed, letting go of Harry's hand, an expression of uneasy curiosity on her face. She turned to Mrs Weasley. "Mum...erm, I think things might be...speeding up?" she said questioningly, her cheeks turning pinker as Harry too, blushed. Mrs Weasley chuckled.

"Yes, that spell can quicken proceedings, but not always. Lucky for you, dear, in this case it has." She replied, as both her and Hermione strode to the end of the bed, and Ginny concentrated on Harry's face. Her eyebrows knotted as she experienced an odd squeezing sensation on her abdomen, and felt something small, warm and slippery sliding slowly out of her.

Harry searched Ginny's face for answers. She had taken on an expression of deep concentration and thought, as though she was trying very hard to remember something. It was not unlike the one that Tonks used to have when she metamorphosed. Ginny furrowed her brow, and suddenly, Ginny's eyes went a little wider, and she gave a small grunt.

"Oh!"

Then, in the exact same instant, both brown and green eyes flung wide open at the unmistakeable sound of a newborn baby crying. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand as both new parents turned to the end of the bed, focused entirely on the squirming, blanketed bundle which was now squealing in a teary-eyed Hermione's arms.

"It's a boy," said Mrs Weasley proudly, taking the squealing bundle from Hermione, and carrying it over to Ginny. She watched interestedly as both Harry and Ginny's eyes followed the bundle that she lowered into her daughter's arms. Hermione smiled, and left the room to notify the rest of the family of the new life that Harry and Ginny had brought into the world.

Ginny took her son from her mother, and her mouth fell open in amazement. She had never seen anything so beautiful before in her life.

The baby's eyes were firmly shut, however, he waved his fat little fist in the air. He had a shock of unruly dark hair, and a cute little button nose. He was impossibly wonderful. Ginny smiled.

"Hello, baby," she crooned in a soft whisper, "Hello, little boy!" her expression grew tender and loving. She had never known that she could love anything so much in the world. Yet, here he was. She glanced up from the squealing baby's face to that of her husband. She blinked in alarm; he appeared to be in shock.

Harry Potter's green eyes were wide in incredulity and awe. His mouth had fallen open with a little _pop_, and he was still as stone beside Ginny. He had not moved since Ginny had taken the baby.

Ginny bit her lip, worried. She held up the bundle. "D'you want to hold him?" she asked nervously. Harry made no move. She slowly placed the delicate bundle in Harry's arms, which lifted up of their own accord to take the baby.

* * *

><p>Harry's vision had been blurred, confused. Where was the baby? What was Hermione holding? What was that squealing sound? What was Ginny now rocking in her arms? Harry did not know. Harry could not see it. Where was it? <em>What<em> was it?

Then, he took the little bundle in his arms, and in one instantaneous moment, everything was absolutely clear.

Harry's son's skin was pink, and flushed. His tiny little mouth was about the size of a knut, and was wide open, displaying a pair of soft pink gums. His eyes were screwed up in protest, and his cheeks flushed in a warm red in exertion. The boy's little body squirmed in Harry's arms, his screams filled Harry's ears. He was real, he was warm, he was alive.

And Harry grinned, a wide, loving grin that stretched across his cheeks, making him look not entirely sane. He smiled proudly at Ginny, who returned a watery smile.

"He's perfect." Harry's voice was clear and sound, and bursting with pride.

"I know," murmured Ginny, sitting up to get a better look at him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear thoughtfully as she watched her husband and son. She knew that nothing she could possibly say would express what she was now feeling, so instead, she said the most wonderful words she could have ever said.

"You name him." She said decisively.

Harry stared at her, his mouth even more agape. Ginny nodded in encouragement. "He's your son, you name him."

Harry stared at the baby, speechless, before scanning the room for inspiration. His eyes found the photo on the wall of his father as a sixteen year old boy, who was grinning and waving, his arm around his best friend, Sirius, who was roaring with laughter at a joke that neither Harry nor his son would ever hear. Harry looked from his son to the photo and back, blinking away the sudden wetness in his eyes.

"James Sirius." He said, finally. "James Sirius Potter."

He looked to Ginny for approval, and finding that she too, was in tears. She smiled through them, leaning over and kissing him softly. "I love it." She grinned.

At this point, the door was flung open by a grinning Ron, who had a family of red-haired Weasleys and a laughing Hermione behind him, and Teddy Lupin poking his head around Ron's leg.

"Come on, then," Ron said eagerly, his blue eyes wide in excitement. "What is it?"

Ginny grinned, wiping tears off her face. "It's a boy," she sniffed, smiling.

Harry stood up, grinning at his best mate.

"Ron, your nephew is called James Sirius Potter."

* * *

><p><strong>aN: Thank you all so much for your patience and reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll try to write faster!**


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